Control
by Apple Snapple
Summary: Tezuka Kunimitsu and Fuji Syusuke life in a society where parents have control over their children until they turn eighteen. This proves to be annoying, and eventually disastrous. AU. Complete. //perfect pair
1. Chapter 1

_**Control**_

**_By AppleSnapple_**

_**Summary: **A society where parents have full control of what happens to their child until they are eighteen. AU._

_**Rating:** T_

_**Disclaimer**: I don't own Prince of Tennis. I wish I did though. lol._

_**Pairing:** Perfect Pair_

_**Author's Note: **Well, I've started a new story, since it's summer time and Emptied Life is almost complete anyways. Hope you all enjoy!_

* * *

It had all started on a rainy day.

A rainy day where the worst possible thing Fuji could imagine ever happening to him had happened.

He and Tezuka were playing a game of chess at the time, huddled over a small table that was in Tezuka's bedroom. Both players were determined not to lose, but it seemed Fuji had the upper advantage, having gotten rid of almost all of Tezuka's pieces, even his queen. Tezuka was rubbing his temples, with a slight frown plastered on his face.

Fuji gave a small laugh. "Don't worry, Tezuka. In total I'm only four games ahead of you." He moved his rook forward.

"Yes Fuji, you're four games ahead of me," Tezuka admitted. "However, I'd like to remind you that we've only played four games in total, so that means I'm losing. Badly."

Fuji waved a hand, showing it was really nothing. "You'll get better. We've never really had a chance to play chess until now, since your mother dislikes playing games at all."

Tezuka sighed, moving his remaining pawn forward. "Yes, we're only playing because you somehow convinced me that playing board games in my room doesn't count because my room isn't actually a part of our house. You claim that my room is a totally different world entirely and should be treated at such, so it isn't breaching my mother's rule of 'no playing any kind of game in the house'."

"It's important to have this sort of skill of going around rules," Fuji declared, taking his bishop and eating up Tezuka's pawn. The brunette gave a small grunt of disapproval, and Fuji smiled again. "Adults around here can order us around however they want. Even though my parents don't really do that, but it's everyone else's parents that I'm concerned about."

"You're lucky, Fuji, that you have such nice parents that aren't worried about controlling their child every day," Tezuka acknowledged, moving his king away to a safer place. "It's slightly disturbing know that your parent has full control over you, and you do things unconsciously. People can even hurt other people unconsciously and feel no guilt about it; like it's the right thing to do."

Fuji nodded. "It is somewhat unfortunate. I just hope it doesn't go too far." He moved his bishop closer to Tezuka's king. "Check."

"You don't think my parents will find out, will they?" Tezuka moved his king away to a safer spot.

"What, about this chess game? I'll tell them it was for a science project and we're using the chess pieces as solar generators or something." Fuji moved his rook this time. "Check."

"No, not about our game." Tezuka moved his king once again. "You know what I'm talking about."

"I'm sure they won't," Fuji assured him. "After all, how would that thought ever cross their minds? We seem like two close friends, that's all."

"My parents can be unpredictable," Tezuka reminded him. "You remember that last time when they claimed your sister had a pet llama, all because her hair was wet."

"Oh, that." Fuji waved it off. "Your parents are just illogical. Oh, and I think I won the game."

Tezuka was frowning, disappointed that he had lost yet another game. Fuji laughed. "Oh, don't worry Tezuka. You're already pretty good for a begin-" He was cut off by the sudden opening of the bedroom door.

Tezuka Ayana was facing them, and her eyes quickly were drawn to the chessboard that was currently lying on her son's table. She frowned, and anger flashed in her eyes. "Kunimitsu, have you been playing board games when I told you _not to_?"

Tezuka met his mother's gaze. "No, mother. I have been ordered not to play board games; therefore I am not going to do it. I have no power to do it."

His mother's eyes narrowed. "Don't lie to me."

"I am not lying." Tezuka was only able to say this because Fuji had convinced him that he wasn't ever technically 'lying', he was just not telling the whole truth.

"Actually, Tezuka-san," Fuji cut in. "We were working on a physics project together. You see, we're taking the weight of each chess piece over here." He gestured to the chess pieces that were currently on the board. "Then we're are to calculate the velocity and the-"

"That's enough," Tezuka's mother interrupted, waving a hand in the air. "I am not interested in your explanations. The fact is, I have heard _exactly_ what you two were saying this whole time. And believe me, I am not pleased _at all_."

Fuji gave her a questioning look. "Ah, so you can care to explain to me what we did wrong with our project? I have a feeling something's just not quite right; I think our queen's calculations were inaccurate."

The cold look from his friend's mother silenced him. "I cannot believe you have been teaching my son how to lie and cheat his way out of things! I cannot believe he has such a friend like you!"

"And I can't believe a parent can eavesdrop on their child's conversations with a friend," Fuji replied scathingly. "Oh, I'm sorry, I meant _lover_."

"Fuji!" Tezuka was shaking his head, a worried expression on his face. "Don't let your guard down!"

His mother's rage was clearly shown on her face, and her eyes were widening in shock. "To think that my son would be interested in you! A liar, a cheater, a person who doesn't even deserve to live! You know completely well that I have control over my son, do you not?"

Fuji could sense a wave a dread washing through him. He had lost his temper, and badly. He knew full well he would pay the price, but he just hoped it wouldn't be anything too drastic. "Yes, you have control over your son, but not _full_ control."

"Very well," she screeched, a maniacal grin now on her face. "Let's just see how much you can rebel against my control over him! Kunimitsu, from now on you are to forget Fuji Syusuke! To you, he is nothing; you will not be able to see or hear him! He is now _invisible_ to you!"

Fuji watched in horror as Tezuka blinked, once, then twice, and then looked at his mother in confusion. "Mother, why are you angry? What happened?"

"Tezuka! Can you hear me?" Fuji asked, tugging on Tezuka's sleeve. "Tezuka!"

Tezuka brushed his hand away. "Mother, why are you angry right now? I didn't do anything wrong, did I? Or are you angry at someone else? But it doesn't make sense, I'm the only one here right now."

_I'm the only one here right now_.

Fuji gasped, withdrawing his hand immediately. "Tezuka?"

Tezuka Ayana gave a satisfied smile. "No, son, there is nothing wrong. I am just not feeling too well. Continue on now with whatever you were doing." With that, she left the room, giving Fuji a wicked smile as she walked out the door.

In Fuji's life, the thought had not even occurred to him that Tezuka's mother could have done something like this. It had been unpredictable.

Tezuka was right. His parents _were_ unpredictable, and Fuji had let his guard down.

And he had paid a terrible price.

* * *

_Well, there's a short prologue for you all! Please tell me what you think!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Prince of Tennis does not belong to me. Because, well, quite frankly, do I actually sound Japanese to you?_

_And oh my gosh, I just realized I spelled 'Kunimitsu' wrong in my summary. Gah!_

_**Control**_

_Chapter 2_

* * *

Fuji's mother was cutting up some carrots on a chopping board when her son burst through the front door, tear tracks covering his face. She dropped her knife and hurried over to where he son was crouching down on the ground, face buried in his hands. He hadn't even bothered to close the door yet. "Syusuke, what's wrong?" she asked worriedly.

"He…doesn't remember me…anymore," Fuji's muffled voice came through between his heavy, racked sobs. "He can't see me anymore! He can't even _hear_ me!"

"Syusuke, come sit on the couch and tell me what happened," she urged. Then she realized her mistake and said, "If you don't feel like sitting on the couch, you don't have to. You don't need to tell me anything, either. It's up to you." She sometimes hated the inconvenience that came with the power of ordering her child.

Fuji, however, had silently obeyed her, and dropped down onto the couch in a heap, wiping his eyes. "Tezuka's mother found out that he and I were playing a chess game. She eavesdropped on our conversation, too."

"And then?" Fuji's mother pressed on, stroking her son's hair. "What happened?"

"I lost my temper." Fuji had stopped crying, and instead he had a sort of sad smile on his face. "I shouldn't have lost my temper that way. I shouldn't have made Tezuka-san angry. Maybe then…"

"She ordered Tezuka to do something, didn't she?" she asked. When Fuji nodded, she felt a wave of anger go though her. "She is just like the rest of the parents out there. So obsessive with controlling their child."

"She ordered Tezuka to forget about me," Fuji continued on in a broken voice. "And that I was _invisible_ to him; now he can't see or hear me anymore. I tried so hard calling out to him, but he never even noticed. It's like I'm just air to him now!"

Fuji's mother stayed silent for a moment, then said, "Syusuke, do you know why parents have control over their children now? Why they have the power to order their children around, and all the children can do is obey?"

Fuji shook his head.

She sighed, fingers combing through her son's soft, brown hair. "A long time ago, the world deemed children as irresponsible, and they decided to allow parents take control. With advanced technology, they were able to create a drug that was inserted into children from birth. I'm not really sure how it works, but somehow it gives parents control, at least, until they're eighteen."

"We learned the workings of it during school," Fuji admitted. "But I never really paid attention to the class. Actually, I think I skipped class that day."

She sighed. "I don't blame you, Syusuke. I would've skipped class as well if I were in your situation. It's an evil thing, really. And ironically, now it's the _parents_ that are irresponsible, not their children."

"It's so unfair," Fuji exclaimed bitterly. "These people have no right to do what they please."

"Life's never fair, Syusuke. It's not fair from the start; we don't get to choose what kind of life we live in. Some people are born into households where families are strict and unforgiving. Some people are born into families who are understanding and caring. However, if you try to make life as fair as possible, it's probably worth it."

"I don't know what to do now," Fuji said blandly. "It's like I'm nothing to Tezuka now."

His mother took his hand. "Syusuke, this is probably the only order that I'm going to give to you that I've made on purpose. My order is that I want you to follow your heart. Always follow it, because if you don't, you might be making the biggest regret of your life."

Fuji looked up at his mother. "I want to find a way to communicate with Tezuka. I want him to remember me."

"I'm sure you can do it," she said, smiling. "You've never failed in going around others' orders before. There will be a way."

…

Tennis practice was not going smoothly at all.

Tezuka not being able to see Fuji had become a huge problem, especially when everyone else could see him except for the captain. When they even so much as talked to Fuji, Tezuka would ask them why they were talking to someone that wasn't even there, and ordered them to stop fooling around.

Kikumaru had lost his temper at one point. "Tezuka, what's wrong with you? Can't you see Fujiko? He's right in front of you!"

Tezuka had replied coldly that he didn't know who Kikumaru was talking about, and that he had never heard of a person called Fuji or 'Fujiko' in his life.

Fuji had watched the scene play out, feeling his heart breaking again. To his captain, he was merely a ghost. To Tezuka it must've looked weird how Oishi was playing against nothing at all, and how there was nobody on the other side of the court. It must've looked weird how Oishi's hits were being returned by an unseen force. However, if Tezuka noticed anything, he did not question it. While the rest of his teammates looked at him with a sort of sadness in their eyes, all Fuji could do was follow Tezuka around silently, hoping that a miracle would happen.

It had been two days since Tezuka's mother declared her order. Still, Fuji had not thought of anything yet, and all he could do was follow Tezuka aimlessly, but not being able to go into his house for fear his mother would notice. He had to steer clear of Tezuka's mother completely, afraid that she would send out another more drastic and terrifying order.

If only Fuji had a way of reversing the effects of whatever the drug was that had caused this catastrophe. Unfortunately, he wasn't very strong when it came to chemicals and such, so that option was out of the question.

Fuji had never been unable to work around an order before. He had always been successful, especially with convincing people and telling them how to work around things. He just couldn't understand why he didn't have the ability to work around _this_ particular order. Perhaps he was just feeling too panicked. He certainly felt frustrated now. It was taking uncharacteristically long for him to come up with any ideas.

"I really need to calm down," he told himself. He needed to view the problem at a different angle.

While he was lost in thought, he barely had time to stop, almost running right into Tezuka. He had been following the captain again, making sure he was alright.

Oishi was standing before them. He gave Fuji a slight nod, and then his attention went to Tezuka. "Tezuka, I need to talk to you about something."

"Hn."

Fuji gave a small smile. The only time Tezuka ever started talking was when he was with Fuji. Around others, he still remained quiet and as cold as stone.

"Well, it's about how everyone's been acting strangely," Oishi began nervously. "We know it's really not your fault for being unable to remember, but it still is odd. I think…I think one of your parents ordered you to do something."

Tezuka gave a curt nod. "There's someone I'm not able to remember."

"It's not just that," Oishi said. "Something's weird; not only have you forgotten about him, it seems you can't even see or hear him either."

"I figured as much. You were playing with an unknown force during tennis practice."

Fuji frowned. So Tezuka _had_ noticed.

"Well, I just wanted to give you something," Oishi said hesitantly. "It's not really much, but I hope you're able to remember. He was very important to you." He handed him a frame.

Inside the frame was a photo in it.

A photo of Fuji himself, standing next to Tezuka. Both of them were wearing their regular's uniform, tennis rackets in hand.

"Oishi, when did you take this photo?" Fuji asked, not remembering the details.

"Huh? Oh, I took it after we won Nationals," Oishi answered.

"Ah." Fuji nodded, remembering now. "That was quite a long time ago."

"Not really Fuji. At least, to me it isn't."

"Maybe it isn't," he agreed.

Oishi seemed to realize that the whole time Tezuka was looking at him questioningly. "You were talking to the person who I don't remember, weren't you?" Tezuka asked finally.

The vice-captain looked embarrassed. "Sorry Tezuka. That was rude of me."

"It's alright. So his name is Fuji." Tezuka took another look at the photo.

"Yes, his name is Fuji Syusuke. You can see him in the photo, right?" Oishi asked him.

Tezuka nodded. "I'm trying to remember him." His brows were furrowed in deep concentration.

Oishi sighed. "Don't push yourself too much, Tezuka. Fuji won't like it. Not at all. I don't think he wants you to worry about not remembering."

Fuji nodded, agreeing with Oishi's statement. "Tell him that I'll find a way, please."

"He says he'll find a way to help you remember," Oishi translated.

Tezuka gave a nod. "Does he always close his eyes like this?"

"Huh?" Oishi was caught off guard by his question. "Oh, yeah, he always does that. It's so dangerous though; what if he runs into something while he's walking around?" He shook his head. "Well, I have to go pick up something for Ryuzaki-sensei. See you later."

Tezuka nodded, though Fuji was not quite sure he had heard Oishi. He seemed too busy looking at the photo that was in his hands right now, trying to look for any memory in his mind that he could fish out. He seemed unsuccessful, though, and sighed, putting the picture into his tennis bag.

As Fuji followed him into the locker rooms, he silently prayed Tezuka wouldn't blame himself for not being able to remember. The last thing he wanted was Tezuka putting the guilt on his own shoulders before Fuji could even think of a plan.

…

As Tezuka got home from school, he silently went to his room. First, though, he had to arrange his shoes and put them back in the proper order where he had got them. Then, he had to drop his tennis bag in the living room where his mother could check the contents and see what test grades he got, and what homework he had for the night. As he waited patiently for his mother to finish checking the papers, he realized that he had forgotten to take the picture of Fuji out of it.

Fortunately, though, his mother did not notice the picture frame and gave the bag back to her son, apparently satisfied. "Make sure you double check your math homework tonight," she ordered. "I don't want you getting another 92 on your homework ever again, do you understand?"

"Yes mother," he answered her, all the while cursing at himself for letting his guard down again. He finally made his way back to his room where he sat down on his table to do his homework. _Homework is always first,_ he thought. _Then I should study. After all that's done, I can do whatever I want_.

He did his homework in the proper order as well. First came English, and then History. Then it was Japanese, Math, and then finally Science. After all that was done, he started studying for his Japanese test that he had tomorrow during third period.

After he had finished, he glanced at the clock and realized that he was two minutes late to dinner. He hurriedly made his way back down where the table was already set up. His mother was looking at him disapprovingly. "Next time, I expect you to be on time for dinner."

"I'm sorry, mother," Tezuka responded. "I was finishing up some studying."

His mother nodded. "Don't let it happen again."

As they ate their dinner in silence, his thoughts went back to the photo that was sitting in his tennis bag.

At first, he hadn't been sure if the boy that was standing next to him in the picture was even a boy at all. If Oishi hadn't told him otherwise, he most likely would have mistaken him for a girl.

Tezuka wondered if the boy had any sadistic tendencies about him. For some reason, just looking at the photo made him wonder if the boy had tortured anyone during his lifetime.

Maybe he was just being too observant.

* * *

_Ho hum. I'm thinking this story is probably only going to be around three or four chapters. We'll see._


	3. Chapter 3

_I am happily writing and updating, because during the summer time I have extra time, and no worries about my academics. Yay!_

_Even though I usually write during midnight-ish and post during the day. Hm..._

_**Control**_

_Chapter 3_

* * *

One week and still, Fuji had come up with nothing.

He had tried everything he could think of. He had yelled at the top of his lungs to Tezuka while he was walking home, but the captain seemed to not hear him. He had put on a new outfit and dyed his hair black, and walked up to Tezuka, giving him a greeting and saying he was Ishihara Yuuki, hoping that if he didn't look like Fuji Syusuke, he wouldn't be. However, Tezuka didn't see him, and that plan had failed.

He had tried throwing tennis balls at the captain, even, but unfortunately Tezuka had thought it was Kikumaru who had thrown them and ordered him fifty laps around the courts. Kikumaru had whined and said he wasn't the one who threw them, which earned him another ten extra laps. Fuji had apologized to the redhead later for causing his extra laps, and even treated him to a ice cream sundae when school let out.

Today, Fuji had snuck into Tezuka's room, since it was to his knowledge that Tezuka's mother didn't go to her son's room during weekdays, for fear of bothering him with his studies. He was now sitting on Tezuka's bed, watching the bespectacled boy start on his history project that wasn't even due until the next month.

After hours of sitting on Tezuka's bed and contemplating on what to do, he _still_ hadn't come up with anything that would work out.

He sighed, and noticed a piece of paper that was sticking out from under Tezuka's bed. He picked it up, and noticed it was a blank sheet of paper. _Maybe drawing something will help,_ he thought, grabbing a pencil from Tezuka's nightstand.

Fuji decided he was in the mood to draw a mountain. With gentle strokes, he made sketches of trees, and clouds. Admittedly, it wasn't as good as photos he'd taken of actual mountains in Japan, but it was good enough.

Too absorbed with his drawing, he hadn't realized that Tezuka had been standing in front of him, staring at what to him looked like a ghost holding a piece of paper and a pencil.

…

Tezuka couldn't believe his eyes.

He had been working on his history project, typing things up on his computer and searching for pictures. When he had deemed he did enough for the first day, he had gotten up, planning on going to bed.

That's when he saw a piece of paper that was on the ground magically float up a few inches above his bed. As his eyes widened in shock, something even more surprising happened.

His pencil had abandoned its place on his nightstand and started drawing by itself.

Tezuka closed his eyes for a few moments, and then opened them again, hoping that it was just his near-sightedness malfunctioning. However, he still saw the pencil moving against the paper, drawing what seemed to be like a mountain.

If Tezuka had been an illogical person, he would've claimed it as a ghost and immediately ran out of the room. However, Tezuka was not an illogical person, and therefore common sense told him that ghosts did not exist.

Ghosts just _didn't_ exist.

So, common sense told Tezuka that there was only one possibility for this sudden, strange phenomenon.

After all, there was only one person who Tezuka couldn't see, or hear, for that matter.

And if he was wrong, well damn. Talking to a ghost was probably more exciting than doing research on the Meiji era, anyway. If he was lucky, he might even be able to get some more information that wasn't in the internet.

He just had to remember not to let his guard down.

…

"Fuji."

Fuji gasped and dropped the pencil he had been using. He looked up and realized that Tezuka was staring at him.

Or, rather, he was staring at the paper that was currently in Fuji's lap.

_That's it!_ Fuji thought excitedly, picking up the pencil again. He flipped the paper over and hurriedly scribbled some characters onto it. _Can you see me?_ he wrote, and then showed it to Tezuka.

The captain blinked, then shook his head.

_But you can see what I write._

Tezuka nodded his head this time. "Are you Fuji?" he asked.

Fuji smiled. _Ah, you are 100 percent correct, Tezuka. I am Fuji._

"Why are you in my room?" Tezuka questioned sternly.

_Now, now. No need to angry about such trivial matters; I used to sneak into your room everyday._

Tezuka raised an eyebrow. "Without my permission?"

_Well, for the first few times, anyway. _Fuji chuckled at the thought, remembering how he kept pestering Tezuka about it during tennis practice, and how that alone had earned him at least a hundred laps. _You started inviting me over after that._

"Have you been in my room everyday?"

_No, no, this is the first time in a while. The only thing I've done is follow you around school. Besides, your mother would kill me._

"My mother doesn't go into my rooms during weekdays," Tezuka stated, pushing up his glasses.

_If you had told me that before you lost your memories, it would have been extremely helpful. It _does_ explains how you only invited me while we had school, though. You made me so lonely during the summer. Ah, do you have any more paper? I believe I'm running out of space_.

Tezuka nodded, and went to go fetch some from his desk. Fuji wondered if his captain was freaked out yet, talking to an invisible person. If he was, he made no sign of it.

It felt good to be able to communicate with Tezuka again, even though he hadn't a clue who Fuji was. It was better than nothing, though, and Fuji was happy he had found a way to talk to him now.

Tezuka came back with the paper, but seemed at a loss towards which direction he should be handing the paper to. He finally opted to put the paper on the bed, and Fuji helped himself.

_Oh, do sit down. Don't worry, there's plenty of space,_ he wrote.

Tezuka complied. "How long have I forgotten you for?"

_Oh, not too long,_ Fuji assured him. He checked his watch. _Only for seven days, fives hours, twenty-three minutes, and forty-two seconds._

"You've been keeping track?"

_It's an important aspect of my life. Now, tell me, why hasn't the stoic captain demanded me to get out of his room yet?_

"Oishi told me that you were an important person to me," Tezuka answered him, frowning at being called 'stoic'. "And having forgotten you, it would be rather rude to just kick you out of my home like this when I don't even know what happened."

_Ah. If you're interested, it was back when you had a chess board right in front of you. You must have been confused, wondering what it was doing in your room in the first place. You also asked your mother why she was angry, I believe._

"I remember," the captain said, nodding. Then a sudden thought hit him. "Wait. Then that means you also heard what I said to my mother after that, correct?"

_I did hear. Oh, but don't worry. You didn't even know what was going on at the time, so there's no point in blaming yourself. I'm partly to blame for causing this whole mess; I made your mother so angry at the time. _

"Ah."

Fuji checked his watch again and realized it was almost midnight. Reluctantly, he wrote that it was time for Tezuka to go to bed, and that he himself should be getting back home. Tezuka agreed, and waited for Fuji to get out.

However, Tezuka must not have expected that Fuji would be going out through his window, since he kept on looking at the door. Smiling, Fuji wrenched the window open, and a startled Tezuka watched as an invisible figure slip out and land on a tree a few inches away, closing the window behind him.

Fuji walked home with a spring in his step that night.

…

Much to Fuji's amusement, Tezuka would sometimes look behind him now while he walked around the school. Obviously the knowledge of someone who he couldn't see following around him during school made Tezuka uncomfortable.

Not like that was going to stop Fuji. Besides, the brunette couldn't even see him, so he wouldn't know when Fuji was following or not.

Things became a daily routine. Fuji would follow Tezuka home, and while Tezuka went through the front door, Fuji would climb up the tree that would lead him to Tezuka's window. During the night, when Tezuka finished his homework, they would have their conversations, with Fuji writing and Tezuka talking. Some of the conversations were amusing, since Tezuka was such an easy person to tease. Others were more serious, but they were still somewhat pleasant.

There was still a slight problem. Although Fuji had managed a breakthrough with communication issues, he still hadn't thought of a way to go around Tezuka's mother's order and help Tezuka remember again. It clearly bothered the captain that he would forget one of his teammates so easily just because of some order by his parent.

One day, Fuji suggested a game of chess.

"Fuji, my parents don't allow board games in the house," Tezuka said.

_Your room is technically not in the house, but rather, it's a different world entirely._

Tezuka blinked. "I can play chess because my room's not technically a part of my house."

_Yes._

"That's ridiculous."

_No it's not. It's the same excuse I used last week, and you agreed to it so readily. Apparently any leniency you had went away along with your memories._

"Apparently I gained some common sense along with losing my memories."

_Having no fun in life is boring, Tezuka. You sound like an old man already._

"I have a responsibility with keeping my family's name, and I don't want to ruin it," Tezuka answered him.

"_Saa…I don't think responsibility means having no fun at all and dying with regrets. You said so yourself, to leave behind no regrets._

Tezuka stayed silent.

_Alright then, I'll just ask you more questions. What's your favorite color?_

"Blue," Tezuka replied.

_Oh? Blue? I thought you would say something more like green._

"I suppose it used to be green before. I actually really don't recall what my favorite color used to be. Now it's blue, since it's the color of your eyes."

_I see._

Fuji was about to write more, but an odd thought suddenly struck him. "Tezuka's favorite color isn't supposed to be blue," he said to himself. "He doesn't know what my eye color is yet."

* * *

_Cliffhanger? Haha, I'm not too sure if it could even be called a cliffhanger._


	4. Chapter 4

_Hm. Interesting._

_I just realized that if I wanted to, I could've totally made this a oneshot. Instead, I've made it into an ongoing story._

_Oh well. It just adds more detail. XD_

_And another thing. I find it rather funny that Word doesn't have 'wasabi' in their dictionary. Wow. XD_

_**Control**_

_Chapter Four_

* * *

_He's not supposed to know my eye color._

Fuji could hear Tezuka's words ringing through his ears, repeating over and over again in his mind. It wasn't possible; it _couldn't_ be possible. The picture showed Fuji with his usual expression; he almost never took pictures while his eyes were open. There was just no way…

He grabbed another sheet of paper and began writing on it.

_Ne, Tezuka, how do you know what my eye color is? I've never told you before,_ Fuji wrote.

Tezuka frowned and thought for a moment. "I was sure I've seen you open your eyes, at one point."

_But you're not supposed to remember, Tezuka. Your mother took care of that._

Tezuka now looked as equally confused as Fuji. "You're right. However…I am absolutely sure I've seen you open your eyes before. They are blue, aren't they?"

_Yes Tezuka, they are blue. Tell me, can you remember anything else?_

Tezuka shook his head.

As Fuji carried on with the conversation, he had conflicting feelings churning about him. A part of him was happy that Tezuka had remembered his eye color; it certainly was another breakthrough. Another part of him was confused. How on earth had Tezuka managed to break through a part of his mother's order? It certainly had never happened before, Fuji was sure of it.

Could it be that Tezuka's parents' control was wearing off?

Impossible, Fuji decided. Tezuka had three more years to go before he was free from his parents' grasp. There had never been a time when children were let go of early. Such a thing had never happened before; doctors made sure of that by injecting drugs into young children multiple times to be assured of success rate.

"Wasabi," Tezuka suddenly said, frowning. "You like wasabi sushi." This was said as merely a statement, not as a question.

Fuji almost dropped the pencil he was using to write with.

"You've put coffee in curry at one point, while we were training in the mountains. You're in the same class as Kikumaru. You are exceptionally good at going around orders from parents, and you use that as an advantage to convince your friends to do something against their parents' orders." Tezuka frowned. "Have you told me any of this yet?"

_I don't think so, _Fuji wrote hastily. _All we've talked about so far is tennis…and the photo that was taken during Nationals. Oh, and my birthday. You've asked about my birthday._

"Didn't you tell one of your teachers that you were actually only three years old and that you would be turning four in another two years?"

Fuji chuckled lightly. He still remembered that day. His math teacher had claimed he was lying about his age, but Fuji had told him it was the honest truth.

And it really was. It was one of the advantages of being born on February 29.

On a more serious note, however, Tezuka wasn't supposed to be remembering _any_ of this.

Fuji was about to write something, but Tezuka stopped him.

"Fuji…did you just laugh?"

…

Fuji couldn't believe what was happening.

Tezuka, by some strange turn of luck, could now hear Fuji. He could actually hear what Fuji was saying now, and Fuji didn't need to constantly write on paper and show it to Tezuka just to be able to communicate with him. Tezuka also had started remembering more things about Fuji, and he claimed they just popped into his head randomly during the day.

Fuji asked Inui about it, hoping the data master had some answers. Inui was as equally shocked as Fuji, and equally confused as well. So far, the only theory Inui had been able to come up with was that Tezuka's subconscious mind knew there was something wrong and tried adjusting it, without Tezuka even realizing what was going on. Perhaps Tezuka's subconscious had learned how to be convincing. Somehow, it was convincing Tezuka to start remembering.

Well, whatever the reason, Fuji was certain Tezuka was still under his mother's control. Fuji had tried suggesting a game of chess again, but Tezuka declined. Fuji had also tried to stop Tezuka from doing his homework right when he went to his room, but Tezuka was unable to comply.

It seemed it was only on this particular order that Tezuka was being especially stubborn.

It was most certainly a good turn of luck, and Fuji was grateful for it. There was some hope, at least, that Tezuka would be able to see Fuji again, and that all of his memories would return. Things could be as they once were.

Tezuka was now starting to remember things that had happened while they were both still only freshmen. He recalled the time when Fuji had gotten so angry when Tezuka had played against him when his arm had been injured.

"Why, of course I would be angry; who wouldn't be? You were _injured_, for heaven's sakes!" Fuji had said.

Tezuka had a bemused expression on his face. "Still, to be _that_ angry…"

"Perhaps you will understand more once most of your memories have come back."

As the days progressed, Tezuka remembered more and more. By the fourth day, Tezuka was already remembering Fuji's match during semi-finals, and how Fuji had evolved his triple counters.

"You were upset at the time," Tezuka remarked. "It was a very close game."

"Well, I believe I've gotten better since then," Fuji replied. He sighed. "It feels so nice to be able to talk to you normally again without having to write on excessive amounts of paper."

"I've been meaning to ask you about that. Did your hand ever get tired?"

"Of course," Fuji answered, smiling. "I really don't mind, though. There was lots to talk about, and there were a lot of questions that I was happy to answer. I think it might have even improved my penmanship, believe it or not."

"Still, to be spending this much time with me…"

"Well, of course. You had all but forgotten about me, and I was invisible to you. I had to think of _some_ way of communicating with you." Fuji gave a sad smile. "I'm partly to blame for losing my temper that way with your mother. If I hadn't snapped at her, you wouldn't be constantly worrying and blaming yourself for forgetting."

Tezuka looked surprised. "You seem to know a lot about what I'm thinking."

"Of course." Fuji smiled again. "You're always so predictable, captain."

Tezuka didn't know why, but this particular comment sent shivers down his spine.

…

It had been like any other day. Fuji was following Tezuka home, as always. While Tezuka went through the front door and suffered through the ordeal of his mother checking his schoolwork, Fuji would climb up and get in through Tezuka's window. Both arrangements took about the same time, since Tezuka's window was hard to open from the outside and Tezuka's mother would be checking every single paper and reading it.

Today, however, things were exceptionally different.

For one, Tezuka threw his tennis bag carelessly on top of his bed. He then helped a still struggling Fuji get through the window, and then immediately closed it behind him.

"Fuji, convince me not to do my homework today like you did before," he said.

Fuji was caught off-guard by this command. It took him a moment to form a coherent sentence. "Tezuka, your mother tells you do your homework once you get home, but she doesn't tell you to do it immediately."

Then something struck him as odd. Tezuka wasn't supposed to know that he had trouble getting through the window today. After all, he wasn't even supposed to _see_ him.

Before Fuji even had time to react, Tezuka had pulled him into an embrace. "I'm sorry," he mumbled through Fuji's hair.

"Did you remember?" Fuji finally asked, wrapping his arms around the bespectacled boy.

"All of it," Tezuka answered. "I can see you now," he continued. "You've gotten thinner."

"I missed you," was all Fuji could say at the moment. "I thought there might've not been a way. But then you started remembering on your own. I really wonder though, how _did_ you it?"

"…I don't know. I just started remembering all of a sudden."

"Well, your mother's control hasn't been released yet," Fuji remarked. "You still can't play chess without me convincing you to."

"I guess we just got lucky. But I'm sure you would've thought of a way sooner or later." Tezuka tightened his hold. "Fuji."

"Hm?"

"I want to play chess again."

"Tezuka, you can play chess, since your room is not a part of your house, but rather a different world entirely."

Tezuka didn't move.

"Tezuka, you do realize we can't play chess if you keep holding on to me."

"Hn." It seemed Tezuka was perfectly content to stay in this position, and that he figured they could play chess later.

Both of them would wonder what _exactly_ had happened later on. It was a mystery to them, how Tezuka had miraculously remembered Fuji.

Perhaps it was like Ella Enchanted; love could break through anything, even something that seemed impossible to break.

FIN.

* * *

_The word count right before the sentence describing the embrace is '1337'._

_That just struck me as odd, and funny._

_For some reason, I had a sudden urge to write a totally opposite and depressing ending where Fuji dies right before Tezuka remembers everything. And then he goes on to be a story teller and explains that he will never love because of a mountain that he can never be able to catch._

_So weird…XD_

_Anyway, it's the last chapter. Aw, I'm so sad. XD It actually was a fun story to write. Moosh..._


End file.
